The Prodigy
by HDTV-AllThisAndHeavenToo
Summary: Kris Betts is a world renounced artist, musician, singer, dancer, and model... and she's only 25. She lives a simple life for her stature and only wants a good adventure out of life, but what happens when a King of Asgard (Loki) wants a giant paintings and other performances in Asgard? How will the God of Mischief change the famous woman's life and how will she change his?


I awoke to the alarming ring of the telephone. The grogginess didn't leave as I crawled to my bed and pushed myself up by the side boards. Pushing back my mass of blonde hair back into a clip I answered the cell phone.

"Hello?" I murmured, shaking my head out of the haze and looking along the bedroom wall.

"Hi dear." My manager, Sharlin's voice sounded all too familiar with its preppy tone. She then began to blabber about the day's events.

Looking over my wall, I noted what I'd have to finish of my painting. A beautiful tree seemed to grow out of my bed. The leaf-barren branches spread themselves over the walls. Half-finished animals sat on the branches and hid themselves from the snowy night that held its place in the background. Every so often, a street light would make its appearance known with a small candle that showed its radiance in the night.

Being one of the most famous artists in the world, it would only be right for me to do my own house. It was an odd arrangement, me being so young (only 25), as well as famous in art.

"Hello, Sharlin…" I smirked and ran to the closest mirror. My short, blonde hair was messily put up, the bangs were combed over to the side. My grey shirt had different colored paint stains, my jeans also had paint stains as well as a brush stuck to the butt

"You have a client at ten, voice lessons at noon, violin lessons at three, and then you come home to get ready for the charity ball and dinner that starts at seven."

"Oh how glorious." I replied sarcastically, ripping the paint brush off of my butt. I sat on the bed once it was off and heaved a tired sigh.

"Have you been looking at a new house?"

"Oh not again." I groaned and shoved my face into the pillow. I didn't understand what deal it was to Sharlin what house I had. Being one of the most famous women in the arts, I guessed I was expected to be a billionaire and live in a huge mansion with an indoor pool and hot tub and shit. I was a billionaire, but I gave most of the money I had to different charities and causes for third world countries, as well as sending money to New York and Greenwich for the damage Loki and the Elves caused.

I lived in a two story house that had my artwork and different pieces given to me by great artists. I also had different instruments and memorabilia from the many Broadway shows I'd been in. I'd made many music albums, instrumental and singing, and I was only twenty five. I guessed it started when I was thirteen. People noticed I had a beautiful voice and took a hold of it. At sixteen, they also realized that hey, I painted damn well. At eighteen, they realized I was beautiful and put me on the occasional catwalk and sometimes in front of a few cameras. It was all about connections. My parents had many friends in different industries from simply working at different colleges. Scouts from all over the world would come to different conventions, and there I would play or draw, or something and grab their attention. I didn't go to college. I had no need. I could read and write music, and by instinct, I supposed, I knew how to mix the colors beautifully.

Everyone knew the name of "Kris Betts". Of course, it wasn't my real name. It was "Brett Kristopher", but no one knew that, not even the manager. Stage name. Better for security and privacy. Speaking of privacy, this simple two-story house was perfect to be on the down-low! I set up camp in Austin, Texas, the music capital of the world! I needed peace and quiet sometimes!

"Go looking. You need some publicity."

"I don't /need/ publicity. You /want/ me to get publicity so you can keep your job." I smirked almost loudly as I searched for what I was going to wear.

Sharlin's voice sounded caring. I assumed she placed a hand on her heart. "You know me so well, darling."

The next second, the phone clicked off.

I laughed softly to myself and picked up the black kitten and pounced into my room, chasing a toy mouse.

"Hey you."

The kitten, which I hadn't named yet licked my nose and went back to looking at the toy mouse.

"Go get 'em." I grinned and let her go to continue with her fun game.

That was another thing to being famous. I had only my kitten to keep me company. My parents were both busy with keeping records and living their own lives, and don't even get me started on boys. They all liked me for my money and talent. There was not any alliance of the heart. I'd been played and broken many times. I did my party scenes and one-night-stands, but it always hurt in the morning.

Going back to my closet, I picked out a sky blue dress that contrasted against my icy eyes and slipped it on. The dress was nearly knee length and tight. My frame was small other than my decently sized chest and waist. Skin tight was, in this case, good. I slipped on black heels and walked to my bathroom of straighten my hair that barely touched my shoulder. It had to be short. For photo shoots, they often but in extensions and colored it. It simply was the easiest route to go.

A knock at the door reminded me that it was time to begin. My make-up was finally on and I strode to the door with a mug of coffee in my hand.

"Hello." I smiled and looked over the man. He had short, raven hair, neatly slicked back. His eyes were a warm green that shone even though his face was slender and pale porcelain. He was much taller than I, being only 5'5''. The man wore a suit and scarf and on his lips was nothing. They seemed to fade in with the rest of the man's appearance.

His lips curved into a very small smile as he shook my hand. "Hello. I was here to find out about Kris Betts."

"That's me." I grinned. "Come in, come in."

"Are you her manager?" He inquired with a British inflection. It was hard to say, I was the slightest bit charmed just by his demeanor.

"No, no. I /am/ Kris Betts." I chuckled and sat on a stool while I offered him a seat across from me in the relaxing chair.

"Is this your house?"

Now, slightly frustrated, I sighed. "Yes, yes. This is my house."

"Alright…" He shrugged ever so slightly.

"What can I do for you today?" I tilted my head, my smile returning at his laid-back-ness at my home.

"A portrait. I am willing to pay whatever you require."

"Alright…" I folded my hands. It wasn't uncommon for people to ask for portraits; it was one of the most common artworks people asked me for. "Of whom, and when do you wish to meet again for the painting?"

"Me, and perhaps tomorrow?"

As far as I knew, I didn't have anything going on. "Let me call my manager." I smiled and stepped out of room.

"Am I busy?"

"No, hon. Not tomorrow. I'll schedule you two for noon?"

"Please and thanks." I hung up the phone and walked back in.

"How does tomorrow at noon sound for you?"

He nodded. "Thank you, that sounds lovely."

"What about a price?" I asked as he stood and adjusted his scarf.

"How does $30,000 sound?"

I quirked a brow, "That's a little low for me. $50,000."

"You have yourself a deal." He bowed his head and took my hand gently, placing a soft kiss on my knuckles.

A light blush washed over my cheeks as I thanked him and walked him out of the house. After shutting the door behind him, I sighed contently. I didn't need another person to complete me. That was all too much of a lie, I then told myself. Everyone needs someone. Maybe even master criminal minds wanted someone to love and care for. I didn't know. I missed being loved. Maybe that was my problem, maybe I just needed to get laid and then I'd feel better.

* * *

After scarfing down my lunch of Pei-Wei microwavable chicken fried rice, another knock came at my door.

"It's open." I called lazily to the voice teacher who walked in with her pink high-heels and suit. Her grey hair was always pinned up nicely, but she always smelled like foul hairspray. She strutted into the music room where she fiddled around with the piano and shuffled her music while preparing her vocals.

"I'm ready, dear." She called. Madame Academy was one of the greatest musical teachers in the world. I was more than honored to have her as my teacher.

I sprung off the couch from my phone and jolted into the music room. "Let's begin, Madame." A grin tore itself across my lips.

We first started with a warm-up. I couldn't lie, my vibrato felt a little off that day. Still, it was nice to be able to sing whatever I wanted. Madame Academy had so many music books from all different genres. We sang Broadways, pop, classic; the whole enchilada. That's how she teaches, she allows her students to pick what they want to sing, then she gives us different pointers on things we should fix when it comes to technique. She understands everyone

After more voice lessons, I switched over to violin lessons. The music teacher was an old, retired high school teacher who taught me all through my high school years. His name was Mr. Mason. I cared for him deeply, like a father. As always, our lessons went spectacular, and afterwards, I took him out to coffee.

"How are things, Betts?" He sipped at his latte.

I shrugged with a smile. "It's… it's going. You know how busy it can be."

He nodded along, seeming to understand it completely.

My phone buzzed as a reminder from Sharlin that I had to be getting home to get ready. Not only that, but people were starting to gather for autographs and picutres.

"I'm so sorry!" I apologized, tossing my Frappuccino in the trash and giving him a close hug.

He chuckled in his normal way. He smelled of old books and cigars. It was the most comforting smell I'd ever known. No matter what, I'd never forget it. "I understand. We'll meet up later."

I agreed and drove off in my newest Civic, waving to the paparazzi for publicity issues and made it back to my plain, country house with no neighbors, and clean, crisp air. When I drove up the driveway, I noticed two or three cars already waiting.

I was twenty minutes late to my own make-over.

As I walked through the door, I heaved yet another sigh. Make-up artists and hair stylists were running about my house, getting everything ready so that they could just fix my face and be done with it.

"Where do you want me?" I asked Sharlin, who was standing by my fireplace, making call after call. The woman had brunette, pinned up hair and hazel eyes. She would've been beautiful if the stress I put on her didn't affect the way her lips sat on her face.

She looked up from her long, pink nails and smiled. "The bathroom."

I nodded and strode over in my dress, after slipping off my black heels.

"Hello dear…" Three of my favorites showed me the black, elegant dress they wanted me to wear for the night. It was strapless and fit perfectly around my chest and waist and slightly poofed out when reaching the butt. It sparkled and went with black gloves.

"Is this all necessary?" I raised a brow as they finally managed to zip it up, making me suck in.

They nodded all at once with their odd sense of style, but still, they smiled as they sat me down.

Over the course of three hours, hairstylists were able to put in long, blond extensions, curl them, and put them up in a certain way to where some hung onto my shoulders and dress. The make-up artists, at the same time, wiped off my old make-up, put more on, as well as completely re-do my eyes and made me look completely flawless. It was frankly, amazing what some people could do.

As I examined myself in the mirror, I noted how beautiful I looked, but how much I didn't match up on the inside. If all to my life there were lessons and occasional clients, it wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to sing publically again. I hadn't been in a show for months. I wanted to play music again. It had almost been that long since I'd played French horn in an orchestra. I wanted an adventure… that's all I yearned for.

Once I was complete, Sharlin escorted me into a limo and we drove off to the big city hotel where the ballroom was.

Stars and paparazzi left their cars to be photographed and autograph fan signs. It was all so magnificent. I would never forget to feel like it was my first time to a famous gathering. My eyes were wide with wonder and awe. Oh, how I loved it so.

I stepped out and cameras flashed. I grinned and took a few pictures with fans and signed a few papers, all was well until someone called:

"Oh look! The Avengers are here!"

I turned as quickly as the crowd.

Tony Stark, Thor, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, and Steve Rogers piled out of the car and smiled and waved at the crowd.

My mouth dropped in awe and Sharlin pushed me inside. "They're just as famous as you." She hissed and went to talk to newer famous people.

This charity was for those who were hurt in the recent Elf attack on Greenwich. It was a bit of a helping hand to the British.

Music began to play as the Avengers made their way inside. People came up and greeted me and asked me to dance, which I couldn't refuse. It also happened that I managed to give the director some tips on how to correctly conduct his orchestra. He was more than grateful.

"So, Betts. Is that your real name?"

I tiled my head and whirled around. "I don't know." I smirked. "Is Tony Stark your real name?"

He gazed at me with his chocolate eyes and took a drink of his Scotch. "No. It's Anthony, so really, what's your real name?"

"Kristopher." I chuckled and took a glass of champagne from a nearby server.

"You're lying to me."

"How could you tell?"

A grin rode upon his face as Thor walked up. "Oh yeah, blondie, this is my pal, Point Break."

He nodded and reached to kiss my hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Thor." I smiled as a light blush came over my cheeks.

"And the rest of the gang." Tony motioned to the rest of the Avengers.

I shook hands with each one with a sense of gratitude. "Nice to meet you all."

"We hear you're pretty talented." Natasha crossed her arms and tilted her head, as if figuring me out. It was a weird sensation… to say the least.

All of the sudden, Clint's watch beeped. "No. There's no sign of Loki here." He reported and shut off.

"Yeah, if you see a tall, black haired, crazy looking guy, let us know." Tony laughed.

"Alright. I will." I agreed and Sharlin once more walked up to me and whispered something about someone I had to meet.

I said my goodbyes to the Avengers and walked over to the hallway where a possible entrpanour was waiting.

"Hello… again…" I muttered to the same guy who was at my house this morning.

"Greetings, Kris Betts." He kissed my hand with a devilish look upon his eyes.

I turned to Sharlin who had passed out on the ground.

Oh no.

This couldn't be happening.

NO!

I turned back to the man who was now in Asgardian armor. Damnit.

"Hello, Loki…" I breathed deeply to calm my nerves.

"Hello. Now that we see each other clearly, let's get painting, shall we?"

I jerked back. "We had an appointment tomorrow, but it's off!"

He shook his head. "What a shame… I guess you'll just have to come right now then?"

"Come where?"

"Asgard…." He grinned evilly and all of the sudden, a bright golden cylinder came around me. Wind picked up as if I was in a storm and Loki was gone.

I banged against the cylinder, but nothing worked. I couldn't move.

My world spun. I flew off into space… and I passed out, wondering if I was ever going to get home.


End file.
